We
went to a gig this week!
It
deserves the exclamation mark because it’s a rare occurrence these
days.
I
used to go to quite a few during my university years, and when I
worked on the paper we used to be sent free tickets so we could write
reviews.
This
resulted in some quite unexpected evenings out watching bands that
you wouldn’t even pull out of Woollies bargain bin.
My
friends are also all frighteningly musical and write and play their
own stuff so I’m surrounded by talented people – both amazing and
depressing for the tune-free lump that I am.
This
week’s gig was with James (the band, not the Bond) and hubby and I
went with friends and had a perfectly lovely time.
James
were as good as ever and the whole thing was massively, massively
uplifting.
The
audience was mainly made up of people older than us (always a joy
when you hit your 40s) who looked like they were having the time of
their lives.
There
really is nothing better than looking around at a gig and seeing the
entire audience arms aloft, faces smiling, singing as one.
In
the emotional armoury of life, music is an extraordinarily powerful
weapon.
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